The Fun House
by wimmer511
Summary: Jane is stressing over Lisbon's new relationship with Pike on the anniversary of his family's death. Things only get worse when Lisbon goes missing. A lot of angst. It's AU, but that said I'm going to keep it as in canon as possible and will try my utmost to keep everyone IC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome to my new multi-chapter. Hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Dead and Gone

Patrick Jane was seated on the arm of his couch looking out the window of the bullpen when Agent Lisbon found him, the father of their last victim whose case they'd solved, right behind her. She knew he was sad and that doing this was pushing it, but he'd been doing better, and she just hadn't the heart to say "no" to Mr. Taylor. Light from the sunset was going through Jane's blond curls and for some reason seeing him like that made her feel sad too.

She turned back to Taylor. "He's right there." She nodded her head in Jane's direction then backed away. One thing she wasn't sure she'd ever get used to was the fishbowl conference room, which meant there were very few options of places you could go to hear, but not be seen. So she made her way to one of the pillar's and leaned against it. Just enough cover to try and hide and of that didn't work, she could pretend she was intentionally watching.

"Mr. Jane?" Taylor's deep voice asked.

Lisbon could hear the squeaking of the leather couch as Jane turned to face Taylor.

"I…," Taylor cleared his throat, "I understand that you're responsible for finding my daughter's killer. Thank you."

She peeked in again, unable to stop herself, and saw Jane standing in front of Taylor shaking his hand.

"I've read about you, Mr. Jane," Taylor proceeded.

Lisbon swallowed the lump that formed in her throat and moved out of sight again. Today was not the day to bring this up.

Taylor took a deep breath. "Do you think I'll ever see her, Jessica, again?"

Lisbon inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. _Please, Jane…lie._

* * *

Jane followed Lisbon out of HQ. It'd been a very emotional day for him and their last case hard. Aside from the moment when Lisbon had slammed the killer into his own kitchen table, he was glad it was over. He took a deep breath as she stalked ahead of him, he knew she was furious with him, he just wasn't sure what for yet.

He rolled his neck causing a loud cracking sound that had Lisbon glaring at him over her shoulder. He hadn't slept in a few nights and his body was stiff from all his rolling. This wasn't the first time he'd cracked his neck and he knew it grossed her out, but he couldn't help it, it hurt.

A soft glow from three separate street lights lit the parking lot. Lisbon's heels clicked on the pavement and he smiled when he realized that she was walking him to his car. She wasn't so mad she wouldn't make sure he got to his vehicle safely. Ever since she'd started dating Pike, she'd also started walking him to his car. He figured it had something to do with misplaced guilt. She was spending all her time with Pike, and had been neglecting him, so this was her way of making herself feel better about it.

She stopped at his Citroen, which he'd gotten back in the last month, and turned on him. Her green colored eyes were ablaze, but when she spoke her voice was as smooth as honey. "I talked to Courtney today."

"Down in forensics? When did you have time for that?" Jane reached into his suit coat pocket and slid his finger through the loop of his keychain.

"She mentioned that she asked you out a couple weeks ago and that you declined." She was going for casual.

He removed his keys and flipped them around his index finger and into the palm of his hand as he looked at his feet and smiled awkwardly. Lisbon could make a person twice her size feel like they were on trial, which was why she was such a good cop. Jane just didn't particularly like being on the receiving end of it. "Yes, well it is a free country…"

"I thought you liked her," her voice was bordering on ridiculously sweet.

Jane knew better. He was confused by her seemingly random line of questioning, she'd never been interested in his dating life before, except on occasion where violent criminals had been involved, but decided to answer her anyway. "I do like her, I just don't want to date her."

Her expression softened and Jane could have sworn that he'd seen a split second's worth of fear in her eyes.

"Why not?" She shoved her hands into her front jean pockets. It was the first question so far that had been completely sincere. The one she really wanted an answer to and yet it wasn't one he could give her; so he chose levity.

"Is it that time of the month again?" He let a small smile creep over his face. "Because you're kind of acting like a girl."

She punched him in the arm.

"Ow!"

"I am a girl!" Her cheeks flushed.

His smile softened as she wrapped her arms around herself in a very feminine way. He knew she was a girl, had never been in doubt of the fact actually, especially not recently. Lisbon was even very good looking, with a strong jaw, high cheek bones, dimples when she smiled, freckles on her nose and cheeks and ebony hair and on top of all that she was witty and smart. So, it surprised him that she seemed to feel a need to remind him of that fact. He'd hoped to steer the conversation away from awkward, but apparently she wasn't going to go for it like she normally did and his teasing had unexpectedly made this moment very awkward.

He supposed it had something to do with Marcus. He had, after all, be completely honest and upfront with her about his feelings. Jane had liked Marcus immediately, had offered him help because he'd seen something in the man that had made him take pity. He'd just never suspected that Pike would go after Lisbon, not that she wasn't worth going after, or that Lisbon would respond to him the way she had.

"You are such a jerk," she mumbled. "How long has it been since you've had a sincere conversation with somebody?"

"A month," he said outright. She wanted honesty, he could give it to her. He ignored the pang of guilt when her face dropped and watched as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and started looking around the parking lot. His brow furrowed. "Why are you asking me this Lisbon? You've never once shown an interest in my love life."

"What love life?" she retorted. Her hands rubbed up and down her arms.

"Why don't you just tell me what's bothering you so we can move on with our lives?" he rejoined.

She made eye contact and took a deep breath. "Why did you tell Jessica Taylor's father that he'd never see her again?"

So that was what all of this was about. When Mr. Taylor had stopped by earlier he'd asked him if he believed in life after death. He told him no and she'd obviously been listening. His eyes narrowed. "Because she's dead, Lisbon." He watched her face drop, watched her recoil into herself as if someone had just punched her in the stomach, but he couldn't stop himself. "Gone. Murdered. Nothing more than a memory."

She shook her head. "No."

"When you're dead, you're dead," he said.

Lisbon had always been the religious one. Her cross was the only openly blatant symbol of her belief that she wore, she wasn't preachy or superior, but everyone knew what she believed in and how deeply she believed it. Jane knew it was her way of coping with life and loss. He'd never questioned her or belittled her faith before—not until now. He was being brutal, but the hurt he'd been feeling all day was finally getting the best of him and his lashing out now seemed somehow inevitable.

"You want to believe in a higher power, but the only higher power around here is the man in the big corner office of this building who gave you that badge," he said pointing first to their offices behind him and then to the badge she wore on her belt. "One day, you'll have to wake up and realize that."

She looked out over the parking. "That was cruel Jane, even for you."

He looked at the petite woman in front of him, suddenly wondering why he'd always thought she was bigger than she actually was—why he'd thought she was imposing. She seemed so fragile right now, broken.

He'd done that.

He pushed his guilt back before letting out a quick, jarring laugh. "What should I have done? Lied?"

"Yes? You do it all the time," she accused. "I know you're miserable Jane, but that doesn't mean that you have to make everyone else miserable too."

"That's why you were asking me about my love life?" He could feel a smirk crossing his face, as the realization hit. "You think that if I start dating that I'll be less depressed?"

Her face hardened and the light he was used to seeing in her eyes was gone. "The thought did cross my mind," she told him dispassionately, sending a chill up his spine.

A cool breeze brushed past them causing Lisbon to shiver at almost the exact time he had. She wrapped her arms around herself again, but this time it was for comfort.

"So, let me get this straight, you start dating Marcus and are happy and fulfilled and you think, "gosh, if I could just find a girl for poor Jane."

"That's not fair," she said. "Or true…"

"So easy to fix everyone else's problems while you're leaving them behind, isn't it?"

Her eyes widened. "I'm sorry, are you accusing me of leaving you behind? How many times have you run away, Jane? How many times have you left me behind?"

Jane's stomach clenched. He really didn't want to be doing this. "Do you remember what today is?"

She looked more hurt at his question than she'd been by anything else he'd said to her so far. "Of course I…"

"Then why would you say these things to me?" He stepped quickly toward her.

Her arms dropped and she batted her eyelashes nervously as he entered her personal space—still she stood her ground. "I'm sorry about Angela and Charlotte. I'm sorry that it tore a hole in your heart so deep that the scar will never fully heal, and I'm sorry that on those rare occasions when the hurt is out of control you can't regulate yourself and turn into someone mean and spiteful." She let her words sink in and when she spoke again her voice was calm and controlled. "I wish I could take the pain away, I do…It's been twelve years and one day you're going to have to stop using that ring," she pointed at the wedding band he still wore on his left hand, "as an excuse to not be happy."

He grabbed her hand mid-jab and was surprised by her rapid pulse. "It's not an excuse."

"Prove it." She ripped her hand from his grasp, turned from him then unexpectedly she stopped and walked back before pointing her finger in his face. "Next time a grieving family member asks you if they'll see their loved ones again," she spat, "show a little human decency and compassion and tell them yes! I don't care what you believe."

With that she turned her heel on him, her brown hair whipping him in the face as she went, and stormed off to her car.

"Yes, you do," he whispered. The sudden insight sent another chill throughout his body. It wasn't new, but now it felt more poignant than it ever had before. He had to get away, away from HQ, away from his discovery, away from _her_ as quickly as possible. He got into his car and was peeling out of the parking lot before she'd even reached hers.

* * *

Lisbon woke with a start. Her head was throbbing and her eyes were blurry. A bright light hung above her head, swaying back and forth slowly. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again trying to clear her vision but it didn't help, she could barely make anything out. Her hand began to lift to her head, but stopped abruptly. She tried lifting her head, but couldn't. She tried moving the rest of her body, unsuccessfully. Panic began to take over, but she reined it in just as she'd been trained.

"Agent Lisbon," a maniacal male voice said. "You're awake. I was starting to worry I'd overdosed you."

"What?" Her throat constricted when she spoke. She swallowed and tried again. "Who are you?"

"You can't see me?"

She could hear the man moving around, but everything was still too blurry to see. "I _have_ overdosed you." He sounded disappointed. "How will I have my fun with you and Mr. Jane if you're not conscious enough…"

She thought back to her fight with Jane, to when she stormed off to her car when it came back to her—she'd been tasered. She could still feel the electricity shooting through her body. She'd fallen to the pavement and watched helplessly as a fist slammed into her face.

She knew she should fight, that she was in grave danger, but she was just too tired. Her lids were heavy and despite her efforts to keep them open, they slowly shut, blocking out the light, trying to rid her of consciousness yet again.

"Lisbon," a gentle female voice called out to her. "Can you see me?"

She forced her eyes open with everything she had in her, gasping at the effort. She could faintly hear a male voice talking to her somewhere in the back of her consciousness, and could feel course hands on her face, stroking it, but she ignored him. She looked around trying to close in on the female voice and blinked when a woman with pale, radiant skin, hazel eyes, and caramel colored hair came into view.

"You see me," the woman sighed. "That will make this much easier."

Lisbon cleared her throat. "Make what easier? What's happening?"

"I don't have much time," the woman said. "You have to tell me what to do?"

Lisbon's eyes drooped, but she forced them open again. "Tell you what to do?"

"Yes. How can I get you out of here?" The woman began ringing her hands. "What do you need?"

Lisbon's mind raced.

"Please, you have to hurry," her voice was becoming more anxious by the second.

Lisbon thought through her options. There was no way she'd be able to get out of here by herself, not while she was drugged. She needed help. She could feel her mouth open, could feel her lips starting to form the word "Jane," but she stopped herself from saying it out loud.

The woman smiled and the light around her increased tenfold. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"I didn't say anything."

"I'll get him here," the woman said.

"Get who here? Who are you?" she sounded panicked even to her own ears.

The woman smiled. "I'm someone who knows how much you care about him, and who knows how much he cares about you." The woman's eyes brimmed with tears. "He couldn't save me and it was almost the death of him, if he lost you too…"

Lisbon blinked with a sudden realization. "Angela?" Panic built in her core. "No, don't bring him here," she yelled, but the woman disappeared before she'd gotten it out.

A sleazy looking man, lanky body, greasy brown hair, wearing a medical mask appeared in front of her. "Mr. Jane? I won't bring him here. It'll be much more fun to send you to him, one piece at a time."

She could feel her arm getting cold; the drugs were taking her down again. She tried to fight it, but it was too much, too strong.

Her eyes closed against her will and just before she lost consciousness she heard the man speak once more, "Welcome to the fun house."

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated. Also, for those of you who have been reading Post Red, the last chapter is now up. It has a different picture with it now, of Jane and Lisbon and Jane and Lisbon and Walter, if you were looking for it, but unable to find it. The picture was made for me by the lovely Phoenixx2812. **


	2. Consequences

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I'll be sure to answer your reviews as soon as I can. And thanks to the guest reviewers as well, since I can't respond to directly, just wanted to let you know that your reviews made my day. Hope you enjoy chapter 2!**

* * *

Consequences

Jane rolled over, grabbed his pillow and fluffed it before shoving it under his head again…cool side up. He couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried, but perhaps that was the problem—he was trying. His mind was too busy thinking and over-thinking everything that had been said between himself and Lisbon.

She'd always been honest with him, even to a fault. When she thought he was being a prick she had never failed to tell him, to call him out. No one had ever called him out on anything, including his wife. Angela had always been too kind for that, a softie, a pushover. Lisbon wasn't like that, she was a take no prisoners kind of a gal. As much as he loved and missed his wife's gentility, Lisbon's blunt morality was something he craved. It was her words that had kept him going through the years—that had kept him…honest.

He also thought about other things… things he'd always repressed before, things that felt as knew to him as her candor had once felt. Things he shouldn't be thinking of now—like the way her voice had pitched up when she'd told him she didn't care about what he thought, the way she'd flushed, how her pulse had raised when her hand had been in his grasp, how her delicate hands had made tight fists before she'd walked off, and the way her hips had swung side to side at her retreat.

His entire body warmed. He threw his sheets off and shut his eyes tight, then imagined crumpling up the image of her walking off, like a piece of paper and throwing it into the distance. She'd been his colleague, friend all these years and not too long ago he'd started thinking that maybe there was something more, he just wasn't sure how to confront it. Of course he had tried somewhat successfully to suppress all those feelings the moment Pike had come into the picture. He couldn't understand what had changed so drastically in their short conversation tonight that suddenly made her impossibly alluring, made it _impossible _to repress.

He sat up in his bed with an impulsive idea and before he knew it he was standing in the living room of his Airstream, in his pajama bottoms and t-shirt, flipping through channels. He needed to test his theory. He stopped anytime he saw a woman that he supposed was attractive. He found an action movie with a leggy brunette in it and stopped. She was tackling someone. It seemed so histrionic and ridiculous in comparison to the times he'd seen Lisbon do it. Lisbon wasn't catlike like they tried to make the actress look. Lisbon was brutal, not showy, rough not sleek. She went in for the kill and that was that.

He started flipping through the channels again, this time stopping on a cop show he couldn't remember the name of. A beautiful blonde woman was questioning a suspect. It again seemed so fake, so trivial in comparison to the real deal that was Lisbon. He let his head drop into his hands—his head hit the remote with a clunk and he cringed.

This was getting him nowhere. He'd had relationships since his wife had died. Admittedly none of them had lasted long, none of them had been anything more than a slight stirring of emotions, a little bit of fun, and then sentiments he couldn't return. It wasn't that he'd didn't want to return them, he'd just been…incapable. And then he'd come back to the States, found Lisbon and suddenly there wasn't anyone who even appealed to him on any level. He'd been so wrapped up in being with her again that it hadn't even occurred to him to look at any other woman, unless he thought it could solve a case.

His wedding band felt suddenly very heavy on his finger. He lifted his hand to get a better look. It was growing duller every year and he'd let it, but it still keenly reminded him of the emotions attached to it; of Angela.

He moved to his plush beige couch and plopped down on it. He turned off his TV, after losing interest in his idea, and threw the remote to the right of him. He rested his head against the couch back and tried to recall her face: light skin, fawn colored hair, hazel eyes. He knew what he should be seeing but the most he could bring to his mind was a picture he'd taken of her two years before her death. A picture he kept in the nightstand next to his bed.

He closed his eyes and began twisting his wedding band around his finger. _Angela… _He desperately tried to recall a smile, a chuckle, a caress, but they were all lost to him. He lifted his head from the couch, then lifted his hands and removed the ring. He spun it around in his fingers looking at it from every angle. Had Lisbon been right? Was this little piece of metal, the only thing he had left of his wife, his excuse to be unhappy?

"Patrick," a small voice wafted through his apartment just as his cell phone began to ring. He stood up, gripping his ring in his hand, and ran back to his bedroom. He picked his cell phone up off his nightstand where he'd left it reading the caller ID quickly before answering and couldn't help the smile that crossed his face when he saw it was Lisbon.

"Lisbon," he went for exasperation, "it's twelve-thirty at night, can't someone else…"

"Now, now Mr. Jane," a man with a husky tone said, "crime never sleeps so why should you?"

Jane felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Something was wrong. Lisbon would never give her phone to anyone. "Who is this?"

A chuckle sounded through the phone causing the hair to rise on the back of his neck. "You don't recognize my voice." The man feigned offense. "Don't worry, you will."

"What do you want?" Jane's voice was low and threatening.

_Whatever you choose, there will be consequences. _The thought popped into his head so suddenly it made him feel instantaneously cold, he felt as though he lost time, and almost forgot what was happening. He sat his wedding band gently down on his bedside table almost without noticing.

"I want you to face the consequences of your actions," the man on the phone told him pulling him forcefully from his thoughts and back to the world.

He moved into action, going to his closet in a single stride and opened it quietly. He pulled out his suit and the socks Lisbon had given him, pleased to note that they had dried since he'd washed them earlier that evening. "How do you intend to accomplish that?"

"I want to have fun with you—play a game if you will."

Jane felt his brow furrow as he kicked his pajama bottoms off and stepped into his slacks. "What kind of a game?" he asked.

"If I tell you now it'll ruin the fun later." Rushing sounds came through the phone muffling the man's voice.

"Where does Agent Lisbon come into play?" Jane asked pointedly while buttoning up his shirt. He heard a deep breath on the other end of the line and got the distinct feeling that he'd somehow annoyed the man.

"Very good Mr. Jane," the man said after a moment, "already paying attention." A clicking sound came from the man. "You'll need every gray cell if you want to see your partner again," he said trying to hide the angry tone in his voice. "Either way, by the end of our game she'll be a scoop and run case or dead." His voice lightened considerably; Jane's blood ran cold.

Jane sat on the edge of his bed and pulled his socks on. "You have her then?" he asked evenly despite the fact that he felt like throwing up. "You're going to have to prove it to me." He reached for his shoes under his bed and slipped them on. "Hello?"

He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen, it was black. He stood up, grabbed his jacket sliding it on, then grabbed his ring and his keys from his nightstand before leaving his room. He lifted his phone again and made the call.

* * *

Lisbon could feel shivers running up and down her body. She felt cold, but the shivers weren't from the temperature of the room. She knew they were from the drugs in her system. Her eyes fluttered open and she felt relieved that her vision was no longer blurred. She looked around her surroundings taking everything in. The room was lit by bulbs swinging from the ceiling, the floor was cement, there was a small table next to the bed and she was lying on a gurney with an I.V. drip attached to her arm. She jumped instinctively when she saw fluid dripping down the tube and into her body. It was only then that she realized that she was no longer tied down.

Her right arm reached over to her wrist and yanked the needle out, before chucking it across the room. The drip went with it and hit the far wall with a clink before dropping to the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight the sudden wave of nausea she felt coming on. She sat up and took several deep breaths, wishing she'd paid more attention when Jane had tried to show her breathing exercises a few months back.

"I told you to listen to me," Jane reprimanded, "that you might need these exercises one day—but no, you thought it'd be a better use of your time to ignore me and bore yourself to death with case files instead."

Her eyes popped open and she looked around the room trying to find him. He wasn't there. She was hearing things. The drugs were stronger than she'd thought. She took a couple more calming breaths then forced herself into a sitting position while swinging her legs off the gurney. The room started to spin, but she forced herself to ignore it. She slid slowly to the floor until her feet hit the cement with a small click from her boots. She cringed at the sound.

She was sure it sounded louder than it really was, but she didn't want to attract attention. Still if her kidnapper had wanted her to stay he would have kept her tied down, wouldn't he have?

"He can't hear you," Jane's voice sounded through the room again. "He's busy scheming elsewhere."

She looked around again, but knew she wouldn't see him. She shook her head lightly, then slowly allowed all of her weight onto her legs. She stood to her full height but wasn't ready for the suddenness of it and wobbled before falling back onto the gurney. She closed her eyes again.

"Take it easy there Speedy Gonzales," Jane told her through a small chuckle. "I like that…Speedy. It has a double meaning right now."

Lisbon kept her eyes closed—tried to ignore the impulse she had to roll her eyes. Of all the things she could be hallucinating right now, it seemed somewhat ironic that it had to be her eccentric partner. She wondered if she should be worried that it was Jane and not Marcus. Marcus was her boyfriend after all, but then again she'd been working with Jane for over a decade.

"Why are you trying to ignore me?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. He obviously wasn't going anywhere. "Because you're not real," she told him, feeling immediately ridiculous for speaking to her hallucination.

"I'm pretty sure I am?" he told her with a patronizing gaze as he patted himself for emphasis.

_He's even snarky in my mind, _she thought. She shook her head. "No…you're not. You're just a figment of my imagination, or a dream maybe." She shivered at the thought. Maybe she wasn't even really awake.

"Lisbon," his voice was so close. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. "Lisbon, open your eyes."

His voice was so kind, so concerned that she couldn't help but to do exactly as she was told. Her eyes opened slowly and Jane came into perfect view. Golden curly hair, blue eyes, tan skin, and a few wrinkle lines around his eyes which were not at all indicative of his forty-four years and were the only signs of the wear and tear on his body from his incredibly difficult life. He was wearing his suit as usual with his new favorite accessory—her socks, she really needed to buy him some more, and he even smelled just like himself: a mixture of men's shampoo and tea. She licked her lips, suddenly realizing how thirsty she was. It was a sensory overload that made her immediately panic. She pushed herself up the blue silicone covered gurney and away from what she was now sure was a full-fledged hallucination.

"Holy crap!" she yelped.

He smiled at her and that was the last straw, because even his smile was perfectly him. He pulled a hand from his pocket and reached out to her, but she leaned away from his touch. His smile dropped at her reaction. She closed her eyes and shook her head trying to get rid of him. He was attacking every one of her senses bar touch and she wasn't about to let him take that over too. Besides, they weren't touchers, she and Jane just didn't touch, much...

"Lisbon, I'm not going to hurt you," he said sounding wounded.

Her stomach began to twist. She stopped shaking her head and made eye contact before moving even further up the gurney. "Are you…real?"

She wasn't sure she really wanted to know the answer, but she asked it anyway. She did want him with her a little bit, but if he was really here he'd be in danger and she definitely didn't want that. She had, after all, spent years saving him from life and death situations, angry cops, angry higher ups, angry criminals and even a self-loathing Jane. The last thing she wanted was for him to die after all the effort she'd put into keeping him alive, in one piece and in his job. Besides, if she did die here, he'd be the one to figure out who'd done it.

He lowered his hand. "I…," his eyes narrowed as he considered what to say, "I don't know. I think I am." He was being honest. He was an amazing liar, better than anyone she'd ever met, but over the years she'd learned some of the signs of his honesty and right now he was being honest. Then again he was a hallucination and there was no telling what imagined Jane might get over on her.

He watched her intently for a moment before speaking again. "I know this is strange, but I need you to focus for a minute. Do you think you can do that for me?"

She nodded, her head felt light, the room was still spinning a little. She wasn't going anywhere until the world stayed under her feet, so there really wasn't any good reason not to do what he asked.

"Can you tell me where you are? Or who has you?" he asked intently.

She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't remember seeing anything outside of this room. I was almost to my car when I felt an electric pulse go through my body, then someone knocked me unconscious and I woke up here."

His face dropped and he looked as though he felt…_guilty?_ He took a step closer to the gurney, but this time she no longer felt a need to back away. "What else?"

"It was a man who took me," she offered feeling suddenly very lame. _So much for my prime detective skills. _

"I already know that, you have to give me something I don't know."

She searched her mind, but the past couple of hours had all been a blur. The only thing she really remembered was Angela, but she was hardly going to tell Jane that his dead wife had paid her a visit in her drug induced state. Even if she _had_ been a hallucination and even if he _was_ a hallucination, which seemed more and more realistic at this point. She just couldn't do it. It was just way too…sorted. Besides thinking about how she'd explain a hallucination to a hallucination made her head ache.

"Wait, I think…" she searched. It was exhausting.

He reached toward her again, but stopped abruptly when she flinched. "What?"

She tried to ignore how close he'd come to touching her and told him what she'd remembered. "He was wearing a medical mask and scrubs, he knew how to stick an IV in my arm, and his fingers are rough. He acted very familiar with me and he talked about you. He knows us. He's angry with us," she told him. "He also said something about a 'fun house'."

His smile returned full force and she couldn't help but to return it. His smiles were always contagious.

"Good girl," he said. The pride radiating off him made her slightly infuriated. She was a cop after all, a damned good one too. Still, he'd rarely ever looked at her like that before. It made her stomach flip.

The door swung open and Lisbon found herself unexpectedly tied back down to the gurney. She'd never been free, it had all been a hallucination.

"Oh good, you're awake," the man in question said and his words were very rapidly followed by a clicking sound from deep in his throat.

* * *

**A/N: If you haven't checked out the Save The Mentalist campaign, please check it out. It's at: savementalist. tumblr **

**I also made a video for the Save The Mentalist campaign that you should check out at: www. youtube watch?v=DKoKwLpuM7s (Let's save our show!)**

**And finally if you enjoy my stories you might want to check out my blog at: emilycswrite. blogspot (I have an article about The Mentalist there and will be posting another about The Mentalist shortly.) **

**Just remove the spaces when you check them out. **

**Reviews are always appreciated. :)**


	3. Chapter 3 Torture

**A/N: Hey everyone! I just wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed so far. Sorry I haven't been able to respond to you, I've been a bit busy lately and haven't been able to. I will try to respond soon, but I just wanted to let you know that your reviews where awesome and very appreciated. Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Torture

Jane paced back and forth over the bullpen floor. Everyone had been called in and was tracking down different leads trying to find Lisbon. Her picture had been placed all over the news and calls had been filing in, but Jane knew it was useless. Her captor had obviously been planning this for a while. He knew that the chances of finding her via a tip from the hotline were slim to none. So he was trying other routes.

"Are you telling me that in the decade plus years I've worked with law enforcement we've only had three men with speech impediments?" He was trying very unsuccessfully to remain calm.

Wylie looked nervously at Cho. He'd worked with Jane for less than a year, but he'd never seen him like this before. Sure, Jane had been worried when Grace Van Pelt had been taken, but he'd been nothing like this. Wylie took comfort in the fact that Cho seemed calm, quieter than normal in such circumstances, but calm nonetheless.

Jane knew he was acting out of character, but he felt unable to control it. It was as if his calm, rational, kind side had jumped ship, and all that was left was a cool insensitivity, and seething anger. He had no time to care about what was wrong with him. Time was running out for Lisbon, that's what mattered.

Cho sat forward in his desk chair. "Yes, and that's not the worst of it. One was put to death last year and the other two are both serving consecutive life sentences."

"Sheesh," Pike walked up and glanced from Cho to Jane. "Is that normal?"

"If Jane worked the case, yes," Cho told Pike seriously as Abbott came up behind him.

Pike shook his head then addressed Jane. "We got a call that looks like it might be a real lead; we're going to check it out now. You want to come?"

Jane ignored him trying not to notice the worry lines creasing the man's face. Pike and Lisbon's current relationship was the last thing he wanted to think about, especially when the man seemed sick with worry. He'd even insisted that they allow him to help. Abbott had agreed and Jane didn't argue. There wasn't time to point out that Pike's involvement could cloud his judgment. Jane didn't care about Pike, he cared about Lisbon. He turned to Cho and Wylie causing Wylie to jump. "It has to be a disgruntled friend or family member."

Wylie grimaced and turned quickly back to his computer. Pike crossed his arms. Abbott stared at Jane and stepped past Pike.

Cho spoke. "That doesn't exactly narrow things down either."

"Jane," Abbott interjected, "Pike just asked you a question. We're leaving…"

"Go, go." Jane waived a hand at him dismissively without even looking in his direction.

Pike looked at Cho and Wylie who both shrugged at him, Abbott nodded at him to go ahead without him and then turned to Jane. "I know you're worried about Agent Lisbon, we all are, but if you can't keep it together I'm going to call Fischer back from the field and she's going to take over until Agent Pike and I get back, do you understand?"

Jane glared at him, then looked down at Wylie's computer.

Abbott turned to Cho. "Keep him under control until I get back."

Cho nodded, then Abbott turned and caught up with Pike at the elevator.

"He was just trying to help," Cho reasoned with Jane. "You're not the only person who cares about her. Don't forget that."

"They're wasting their time," Jane said angrily. He was missing something, something obvious.

_Scoop and run. _The words ran through his mind unexpectedly. Loud and clear.

"Because going through old case files has been so useful," Cho said as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Jane ignored the jab. "Scoop and run," he whispered to himself.

"What did you say?" Wylie sat up in his chair.

"It's a term used by EMT's and ER personnel," Jane explained, as he began pacing the floor again. "When they arrive on a scene where a person is too critical for them to do anything other than scoop them up and run them to the hospital." His eyes widened at his own stupidity and he stopped moving. He'd been so angry he'd totally missed it. "We're looking for a doctor, nurse or EMT." He turned back to Cho and Wylie. "One with a lisp and a family member or friend that's…"

"Disgruntled, yeah, we remember," Cho said turning back to Wylie who immediately started typing away.

"What made you think of that?" Wylie asked, glancing p from his computer.

Jane made eye contact with Wylie. "He told me on the phone that Lisbon would be a scoop and run case." He paused before making eye contact with the two men who looked horrified. "Oh, didn't I tell you?" Jane's tone was cold and calculating. "He's torturing her."

Wylie swallowed and Cho looked down, then the two men exchanged glances before quickly getting back to work.

* * *

"You are such a jerk," Lisbon spat through her pain. The leather strap across her forehead holding it down was sticky and rough aside from being too tight. She lifted her right arm against the brace holding it down, and could feel the blood from her wounds dripping down her arm and between the strap and her skin.

Jane was standing near her head now, leaning over her with a small, albeit, sad smile. "I really don't know why you thought it'd be a good idea to show me self-defense," he said trying to distract her from the torture she was going through.

A tear fell from the corner of her eye and she gulped before responding. "Because, you have this remarkable talent for getting yourself into trouble."

"Look who's talk…" Jane began, but was abruptly cut short by Lisbon screaming at the top of her lungs.

Lisbon looked down at her arm as the man in the medical mask cut into it with a box cutter. It was the fourth cut he'd made on her right arm. She was screaming so loud she couldn't believe that no one could hear her.

"Lisbon, Lisbon!" he bellowed as she began to sob. He leaned down right by her face as she tried to look past him and at the cut being made in her arm. "Teresa!"

Lisbon pulled her eyes reluctantly from the razor and looked through tears into Jane's eyes. It took her a moment to control herself, but she found it easier when she saw the fear in Jane's eyes. He was afraid, it's why he'd used her given name. She had to be strong, for him. She whimpered, then swallowed back her next scream and the lump in her throat.

"That's good, look at me. Not at him," Jane encouraged her. "Look at me. Talk to me." His voice sounded choked up. "How did that throat punch thingy go again? How," he brought his hand up and made it into a fist, "where do you hit again?"

Lisbon felt herself chuckling weakly at the fist he'd made. His thumb was on the outside of his fingers. "Tuck your thumb in your fist," she instructed as a tear ran down her cheek.

"Like this," he asked doing as she instructed.

She nodded lightly.

"Where do I hit?" he asked again.

"The trachea."

"Where's that?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes. He knew where the trachea was, he was just being difficult. "Just aim for the Adam's apple."

He cringed. "Ouch."

"Yeah, it hurts. A lot," she said blinking out a few tears again. "It's why I showed it to you."

Jane shook his head. "I don't think I can do that. Sounds awful. It hurts me just thinking about it."

Her eye lids were starting to feel heavy again. "On second thought, maybe you should just stick with me and I'll protect you."

"That's the plan," he forced out.

A lump formed in her throat upon hearing the concern in his voice. "Jane, if I don't make it…"

He began shaking his head. "No, I'm not going to listen to last requests."

"Hey," she scolded in barely a whisper. "You're my hallucination and you'll do as I say." Lisbon noticed her captor look up at her, but ignored him. "If you use me as an excuse like you do Angela, I swear I will come back and haunt you until you do believe, do understand me?"

"Always looking after me, huh?" he asked. His eyes were sparkling as though he were about to cry himself.

"Someone has to."

"I guess it's a good thing I don't believe in ghosts," he said with a cheeky grin.

"Say cheese," Lisbon's captor said, catching their attention. He lifted her cell phone and snapped a picture. "I think Mr. Jane will like this one."

"No," Lisbon tried to yell at him. It came out more like a whimper.

He looked at her over his mask. "Why ever not?"

"Please," she begged. "Don't… don't do that to him, don't hurt him..."

She saw a tear escape out one of Jane's eyes as he watched her, but his expression was hard. She looked back at her torturer's face and could see his cheeks rise even behind the mask. He was smiling at her.

"Well, that's the point." He pushed a button on the phone and she knew he'd sent the message. He sat her phone down and picked up his knife once more starting where he'd left off.

She felt nothing, numb, beyond physical pain. She looked up at the ceiling and began counting tiles out loud. "One, two, three…"

Jane looked away from her and at the man cutting her arms. "We have to get you out of here."

She pictured what Jane's face would look like when he received the picture. It looked just like the one on the hallucination and made her sick. "Is it that bad?" she wondered. She couldn't tell anymore.

Jane looked back down at her. "It's not good, it's only going to get worse. He's getting ready to drug you again. He wants to drag this out as long as possible." The man moved away from her, dropped his blade on a small cart next to the bed and walked over to the drip.

She felt her mouth twitch up on the right side. "Awesome. I must have really pissed him off." She began wiggling her right arm in its restraint, twisting it in the blood that had seeped down into the leather.

Jane shook his head. "No, I did. This is my fault."

"Stop that, not everything is your fault." She contorted her hand and could feel it slipping out of its bond. "And this certainly is not your fault."

"You're sweet, but," he reached toward her face but stopped an inch from it.

"Jane, move," she ordered quietly.

She saw his face contort with confusion, but he did as he was told. He moved to the left as her captor stepped into the spot he'd just vacated. The man leaned toward her getting ready to jab a needle in a vein in her left arm, but before he could her right fist shot out hitting him hard in the throat. He dropped to the ground gasping for air, as she reached up and undid the strap on her head, then quickly removed the strap from her other arm and then her legs.

She swung her feet off the bed and landed heavily. She waited for the world to start spinning, but it didn't. The drugs had worn off enough, and the pain from her cuts came slamming back into her, but she welcomed it, the pain was keeping her grounded and caused adrenaline to pump through her veins She grabbed a roll of gauze that sat on the table with the box cutter covered in her blood and syringe, knocking the metal tray to the cement floor in the process. She was still weak, but managed to get across the room and to the door. She opened it and looked out the door. Where ever she was, it was pitch black and huge. She looked back at the man on the floor, his mask had slipped off, giving her a perfect view of his face.

"Spencer…?" she blinked wondering if it wasn't just another hallucination.

He was still gasping for breath, but was now looking at her. He reached toward her and that was all the motivation she needed to stumble into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4 The Better Man

The Better Man

It had taken Wylie a little under a half an hour to cross reference Jane's suspect criteria with information in their database. There were five female nurses and one male, one female doctor and one male EMT connected with past cases. Jane immediately discarded the cases with the female connections, even though Cho had been reluctant to do so.

Still, Jane had insisted that Cho and Wylie bring the men in while he looked through the cases that had connected them to Lisbon's disappearance. Abbott had called in shortly after they'd left, telling him that he and Pike were going to go to Lisbon's house and see if there might be any indication of why she was missing. He knew it was pointless, but didn't really want Pike anywhere near him, especially not after he Abbott told him that the man had the key to Lisbon's house.

He sat at Lisbon's desk and looked through both case files quickly. He was frustrated that he couldn't remember if either of the men had a speech impediment. He couldn't remember much about the case involving the nurse either, but he did remember the case involving the EMT's father, William Maxwell.

He specifically remembered this case because the entire thing had gone down outside a haunted house that was under construction. Maxwell had been a construction worker on the project. He'd murdered a work colleague and when Jane had outed him, he'd pulled a gun and had started shooting at him and Lisbon. Lisbon had been forced to shoot to kill. The whole affair had been a rather nasty one.

_Welcome to the fun house… _a soft female voice said in his mind. It was the same voice that he'd heard in his apartment before he'd gotten the call. He'd completely forgotten about it. He shifted uncomfortably in his desk chair. Without thinking he reached over to his ring finger with his thumb and spun his ring around a couple of times, before going back to his files.

His phone beeped. He felt his entire frame stiffen as he slowly reached for it, flipping it open. There was a text message from a blocked number. His thumb hovered over the OK button for a moment while he prepared himself for what he was about to see. After a deep breath he pushed it.

A picture of Lisbon immediately appeared on the screen. Tears ran lines down her cheeks, and he could tell she'd been drugged by the loopy expression she wore. And aside from that, of course, was the blood. He could feel bile rising in his throat, but forced himself to continue looking at her. There was _a lot_ of blood, but the more he examined the picture the more sure he was that they weren't life threatening. Painful, no doubt, but if they found her soon she'd be fine. It was the first time in his life that he was pleased with his obsessive need to torture himself when he thought he was at fault for something. Examining the photo had reassured him that she wasn't on the verge of death right at the moment.

He quickly took in the rest of the photo, then called Cho who answered after one ring.

"Do you have something new?" he asked immediately.

"It's the EMT, Spencer Maxwell," Jane told him immediately.

"How can you be so sure?"

"He sent me a picture of her."

Cho was quiet for a moment before talking again. "Okay, we'll go pick up Spencer now."

Jane could feel his head shaking. "He won't be anywhere you'll be able to find him, he's still with Lisbon."

"He has a brother," he heard Wylie say. Cho had put him on speaker phone.

Jane stood up from Lisbon's desk and started pacing again while he thought through his options. "Okay, go get him," he conceded. "He's our best shot." Anger was boiling up within him and making it hard for him to remember any particular details of either of the men. This wasn't like him at all, but he couldn't control it. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt so angry and out of control before in his life.

* * *

Lisbon fumbled loudly through the dark. She'd hit Spencer in the throat hard, but she was sure he'd be after her any moment now. She bumped into a wall as her eyes began to adjust to the light and silently thanked God that she'd escaped.

She was in a maze and it was almost pitch dark, there were very dim green lights coming from different spots, which gave her enough light to see where she was going. She remembered Jane telling her once, that mathematically speaking, the easiest way out of a maze was to find a wall, touch it and eventually it would lead you out. At the time she'd just rolled her eyes at him. She wasn't sure why she'd remembered it now, but she was glad she had. She balanced against the wall with her right hand and let it lead the way. She just hoped his trick lead her out before Spencer had time to pull himself together.

"I see you remembered what I said about mazes… and here I thought you always ignored me." Jane appeared to her left, his light hair illuminated by the green light.

"Not always," she told him as she continued onward, "just most of the time."

He chuckled.

She was feeling more and more herself by the minute. She still felt weak, but she definitely felt like she had her senses about her, her mind back. She started undoing the gauze she grabbed on her way out of the torture room, and wrapping it over her arms. Despite the fact that her mind seemed to be coming out of its fog, and that her knees were starting to feel sturdy again, she still couldn't explain why Jane was there. After everything she'd been through tonight she figured she could be seeing much worse.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him pointedly.

His head whipped in her direction. "Would you like me to leave," he asked. She could've sworn she saw hurt in his light blue eyes, but ignored it. He was just a hallucination after all.

"Did I say I want you to leave?" She could see his mess of blond curls move as he shook his head no. "All right then, don't get your panties in a twist," she said tying off her bandages. She took a right hand turn.

"And the sarcasm returns," he said dramatically as if he were announcing the homecoming of a maharajah. "That's my girl," he added with a twinkle in his eye, before looking over his shoulder.

She could hear the humor in his voice, but it was the endearment that caused a shudder to go up her spine. He'd never called her "his" girl before. She knew this Jane was just a part of her imagination, but it made her smile a little anyway. The wall turned left this time.

"'My girl?'" She'd been unable to hide the pleasure in her voice. Hey if he was just in her imagination then why not? She pushed back some of the guilt she was feeling about Pike and glanced over at him.

He glanced at her as they continued to walk, but she couldn't help but notice that his smile dropped just a little. For reasons she wasn't sure she could explain, her stomach fell at his expression and she felt suddenly very embarrassed.

"Ah, jeez, Jane. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear," she tried back-tracking. At least she didn't think she did. She was very happy with Pike after all. He was good for her. A good man. So she wasn't sure why her conscience was screaming that Jane was too, that Jane and her complimented each other, that he made her happy too.

"Teresa," he said. There it was again, her first name on his lips. "Why do you always call me Jane?"

She saw an open door frame ahead of her and picked up her speed as Jane kept pace beside her. "It's your name."

"But we're friends, aren't we?"

She nodded before stepping through the door into what appeared to be a perfectly circular tunnel. "Of course we are," she assured him, but she was feeling a little upset.

"In that case, I'd really like it if you called me Patrick."

She looked over at him as she reached out and balanced herself with her right hand on the circular wall beside her. She nodded her agreement, to his apparent delight, then looked away from him and took a few steps forward.

Lights suddenly flicked on and the tunnel began spinning, the motion nearly causing both of them to fall. She caught her balance and looked behind her. She could see that the maze was now lit up as well, not brightly, but more than it had been when she'd gone through. The exit in front of her was lit now too. She picked up her pace and made it quickly out of the tunnel.

"Agent Lisbon," Spencer yelled from somewhere behind her in the maze. His voice was scratchy, but she could tell that he was closer than she'd thought. "You've made a huge mistake."

She moved quickly down a bare walkway, but it became pitch again and she couldn't see anything in front of her. She moved slowly, cautiously for a moment until she heard footsteps behind her. She moved faster deciding to risk a faster pace. Jane stayed in front of her but was close enough that she could see him. The footsteps behind her ever closer, she moved faster.

"Wait," Jane whispered and he stopped abruptly. She slammed into the back of him, then jumped back, her eyes bulged. He was…_solid_.

She tripped over her own feet and fell forward. She reached out her hands to catch herself, but the ground didn't come. Instead she felt her head crash into something and lost consciousness right after she felt water surround her body.

* * *

Jane stood with his arms crossed in front of the two way mirror, and stared at Spencer Maxwell's brother Jared through the glass while Cho and Abbott interrogated him. Wylie and Pike stood in the same room with him, Pike close to the mirror and next to him, and Wylie a few steps back.

Abbott and Pike's search at Lisbon's house had turned up nothing, just as he'd suspected, and the two agents returned shortly before Cho and Wylie returned with Jared Maxwell. It'd been a good thing, he supposed, because while he was exchanging information with Abbott and Pike, they'd been able to take him to the interrogation room without Jane seeing. The entire situation was disorienting, infuriating to him, that he wasn't sure if he would've been able to control himself if he'd seen the guy come in.

To make things worse, he could see the stress that Pike was under, he could see that the man was really and truly worried, that he loved Lisbon. He hated the man for it. Hated him for loving the woman he loved. The thought was jarring, but he knew it was true. He'd been in denial for so long that there was a good possibility of losing her to another man, a better man. And he'd have no one to blame but himself.

Jane pushed those thoughts aside as he watched Jared through the glass. Jared knew exactly where Lisbon was, but he was giving them nothing. Jane felt pressure building in his gut and wanted to tear his skin from his bones, just so the feelings would go away. There was just too much, too many emotions. It was too distracting.

"We know your brother took the death of your father poorly," Abbott said looking down at his notepad while he spoke.

Jared smirked and leaned across the table. "If your father had been shot by a cop for a crime he didn't commit wouldn't you take it poorly?"

"Innocent men don't open fire on cops," Cho responded evenly.

"Well the next time you find yourself in that position, see if you don't feel a little differently about it." Jared leaned back against the table.

"So, if your brother did take Agent Lisbon…" Cho asked.

Jared smiled. "Turnabout is fair play, my friend."

"I'm not your friend," Cho responded cold as ice, before he too looked down at his pad of paper.

Jared leaned forward again and placed his palms on the edge of the table. "That's right, you're not. So what makes you think that I'd help you?"

Abbott closed his pad. "Mr. Maxwell, if you know where Agent Lisbon is and don't tell us, any charges we place on your brother will come down on your head as well."

"Charges?" he asked playing dumb.

"That's right. Kidnapping, assault…" Abbott explained.

"Murder?" he asked with a self-satisfied smirk. Cho and Abbott looked at each other. "What'll that get me? Life in prison?" He waited for them to look at him again. "Well, hell, that's a much better deal than my dad got, now isn't it?"

Jane could feel years of repressed hatred and anger finally seeping to the surface. He knew exactly why Abbott had insisted he stay in this room. He'd been different. He was different. Spiteful, cruel, and even unfocused since he'd gotten the call. He tried to push back Lisbon's words from the parking lot before she'd been abducted. She told him he was being mean and spiteful then too. He watched as Jared leaned back in his chair once again, placed his hands behind his head. He lifted his feet to the table and smiled.

That was when Jane lost it. He was through the door to the interrogation room in a blink of an eye. He punched Jared in the throat just like Lisbon had taught him months ago. Not so hard that he wouldn't be able to speak, but hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He then grabbed one of Jared's wrists, twisted his arm behind his back and slammed his face into the table; another move he'd learned from watching Lisbon. His free hand went to Jared's head and held it down.

Abbott stood from his chair, knocking it to the floor with a thud. Pike and Wylie pushed into the room seconds later. Only Cho seemed unaffected by Jane's actions. Not that they would have been able to do anything about it if they'd wanted. Jane had moved so quickly and had such a dangerous grip on Jared's arm, that they couldn't do anything to restrain him without hurting Jared.

"Jane!" Abbott yelled. "What are you doing?"

Jane ignored him. "Here's what's going to happen, Jared." His voice was frightening to his own ears. It was as though he was speaking with someone else's voice, someone malicious and immoral, and he didn't care. "I'm going to count to three and you are either going to tell me where she is, or I'm going to break your arm."

"Are you crazy!" Jared yelled as he struggled futilely against Jane.

"One!"

"Jane, this isn't what Teresa would want," Pike said smoothly, evenly…rationally. "Let him go." Pike would have let go. Hell, Pike wouldn't have done this in the first place. He was the better man, but Jane was the man who'd get Teresa back.

"Two," Jane increased the pressure enough to make Jared scream. Wylie took a step back, his eyes widening in horror. Cho leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"Jane, if you do this, I will remove you from this case," Abbott said. "Do you hear me?"

He did hear, but didn't care. This wasn't a case, it was Lisbon. His Lisbon.

"I don't know where she is?" Jared cried.

"Three!" A loud cracking sound filled the room as Jane pulled Jared's arm.

Abbott pulled out his gun and pointed it at Jane. "Step away from him, Jane. I don't want to shoot you."

Jared started bawling as Jane grabbed his other arm completely ignoring Abbott's order and twisted it behind his back. Again to fast for any of them to restrain him.

Jane leaned down by Jared's ear. "You don't really want to have two broken arms, do you Jared?"

"No," Jared sobbed as snot ran from his nose. "Help me, please! Help…"

"Jane!" Pike yelled.

"You see Mr. Maxwell, my friends here are good cops, won't break the law to get there way. They have a conscience. I on the other hand, am not a cop nor do I care about what society says is right when a criminal is concerned." He pushed Jared's face into the table a little harder. "So I want you to understand that two broken arms will be the least of your concerns if you don't tell me were Agent Lisbon is right now."

"Cho," Pike said, "Talk to him."

Jane could see Jared look across the table at the expressionless Cho, eyes pleading.

"He's busy," Cho replied.

Jared closed his eyes in defeat, his sobs increasing in volume. "All right, all right. I'll tell you. Just, please! Don't hurt me."

"Address now!" Jane barked.

"In an abandoned building downtown," he squealed.

Jane eased his hold enough for the man to lift his head, then rammed it back into the table. "Wrong. I know she's by the freeway or a high trafficked area, I heard a flow of cars when I spoke to him on the phone. Try again, and if you lie to me this time, you can say goodbye to you left arm too."

"She's at the abandoned haunted house on US 183!" Jared just managed to get it out.

The haunted house where Lisbon had shot Jared and Spencer's father immediately came to mind. Shame momentarily washed over him. Why hadn't he thought of that? Then almost as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced once again with abhorrence. Jane released him with a disgusted shove. Abbott and Pike were on him and dragging him from the room as the man started yelling threw tears. "I need a doctor!"

"You're arms not broken you big baby," he told him. Abbott and Pike started loosening their hold on him. They looked over at the Jared as he tested his arm to make sure it was fine. It clearly was. They both let go of Jane and Jane twisted his neck letting out a loud cracking sound.

Abbott looked over at Wylie who was still pressed into the wall. Wylie eyes were fixated on Jane and his mouth hung open.

"Are you coming?" Jane asked the Agents as he quickly exited the room.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and to everyone who has taken the time to review. You're awesome! If you haven't already, check out Phoenixx2812's story: End Game. It's brilliant. **

**Reviews are greatly appreciated!  
**


	5. Chapter 5 The Fun House

The Fun House

Only moments after Jane was out of the interrogation room he felt a hand latch on to his arm. He clenched down on his jaw and turned to face whoever it was that felt they needed a word. His patience was nearly out the window at this point, but he tried stamping down the rage that was bubbling right near the surface.

It was Pike.

"What the hell was that?" Pike demanded.

Jane ripped his arm from Pike's grasp. "Do you think we have the luxury of time on our side? I did what needed to be done."

Pike stood his ground. "And how do you know he was telling the truth?"

"He was…"

Pike continued over him. "He could've been lying. This is why we have to remain detached. I want Teresa back, maybe more than anyone..."

Jane stiffened.

"…losing our cool isn't going to accomplish that."

"Maybe that's the difference between you and me. You want her back, but not enough to lose your cool, not enough to do what needs to be done," Jane said, staring Pike down.

Abbott stepped forward. Until then, Jane hadn't even seen that he was there. It unnerved him that he'd missed him, but he shook his head and made a cursory glance around. Abbott was to his right, Cho was to Abbott's left with his hands on his hips and Wylie was behind Pike clutching his laptop to his chest.

"Jane…"

Pike held up a hand to stop Abbott. "No, it's all right. He has a right to his opinion. It doesn't make him right. It doesn't mean anything."

"Please, any real man would've been beating that man within an inch of his life if he thought he knew where the woman he loved was," Jane spat. "And what did you do? You yelled at the one person with balls enough to do what needed to be done."

"I do love her. Not that it's any of your business." He placed his hands on his hips. "You don't know me…"

"And you don't know her!" Jane yelled.

Pike's face reddened.

"How could you possibly. You've been dating, what? A month? You know nothing about her." Jane advanced toward Pike. "I know her. Hell, Cho probably knows her better than you."

"Jane, that's enough!" Abbott yelled.

"You're right, it is enough." Jane turned to Cho. "Let's go."

Cho nodded.

Jane heard Abbott call for backup at the address of the haunted house as he and Cho boarded the elevator.

"This is a difficult situation," Cho said when the elevator doors shut.

Jane breathed out. "Your point?"

"I'm glad you did what you did. I would've been fine if you'd actually broken his arm," Cho said. "But Pike was right. You need to calm down."

The elevator opened with a bing. "The hell I do," Jane said as he stepped off and headed for the car.

* * *

The feel of warm lips on hers and air being blown into her lungs woke Lisbon with a start. Her eyes batted open and she started coughing up water. She rolled to her side spitting up as she went.

"Oh, thank God," Jane said under his breath as he rubbed her back.

Her coughing finally subsided and she rolled back. Blinking up at the man above her. She took a few soothing breathes before noticing that her head was in Jane's lap. He was leaning over her and was close.

"What happened?" she whispered.

"Apparently there's a boat ride in this nightmare," he told her. "You fell in the water and hit your head."

He was as wet as she was; water was dripping from his hair onto her face. She looked into his light eyes and could see the panic in them. This had to be some kind of super hallucination. She reached up with her left hand and touched his cheek lightly. He leaned into her touch.

"How is this possible?" she asked.

"I don't know," he told her as he pressed her hand more firmly against his cheek. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. They were soft and warm; she closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

She had to fight with her lids to get them to open again, she wanted to stay like this forever, but she was being chased and her hallucinations were becoming a serious distraction. He pulled her hand from his face and placed soft kisses on her palm. "How are your arms holding up?"

She hadn't thought about them since she'd gained consciousness again. The pain came into sharp relief and she bit her lip. Didn't want to scare him. "They're fine."

His face fell. "You're a horrible liar." He started examining her bandages, and tightened the one on her right arm.

He was just like her Jane, all the concern, but without all the anger. But he was more than that. If she didn't know better she'd have thought he was in love with her. She held on to that to remind herself that this wasn't reality. He'd even… "Jane," He made eye contact again. "Did you just thank…God?"

He looked weepy and she watched as he swallowed hard. He didn't answer. Obviously this couldn't be Jane. She looked around their surroundings and noticed that they were in a tunnel, dimly lit with bloody, mangled and mutilated mannequins hanging out of different scenes. They were still in the boat section of the haunted house. Jane had pulled her out of the water and into a dark crevice just to the side of the one of the scenes.

She sat up and away from him, but he kept a firm hold on her hand. "We have to go," she whispered.

"I know," he said. They both stood up and he carefully released her left hand before grabbing her right. It was then that she saw his hand.

"Jane, you're ring?"

He lifted their joined hands and looked at his ring finger. "I took it off," he told her simply. "You were right; I have been using it as an excuse. Not anymore." He moved closer to her again, bringing her hand up between them and his other around her back. "We need to talk…"

She could feel a lump in her throat. "As soon as we get out of here, all right Jane?"

He bent his knees to make eye contact with her, and her face felt suddenly very warm. "Teresa…please, call me Patrick." She nodded lightly, unable to do anything else. "Let's get you out here."

They moved quickly down a hall that Lisbon guessed was for employees. It came to an abrupt end, and Jane released her hand long enough to jump down into the water. He then held out his arms and she went into them, hands on his shoulders, allowing him to lower her into the water.

She felt a small tug in her chest as she found her footing. Without thinking, she pressed herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

"You're shaking," he said, his tone anxious.

"I wish you were real," she whispered into his neck. "I wish this was real."

He pulled her closer to him. "We're being chased by a homicidal maniac, Teresa," he said, and she recognized that he was trying to lighten the mood. "Who makes wishes at a time like this?"

"If not now..."

"Yes, there's no time like the present," he said while nuzzling her ear. "I guess I should tell you then that I love you."

She chuckled.

"What?" he asked and she thought for a moment that he sounded slightly put off.

"Best hallucination ever," she told him.

He leaned away and looked at her, then smiled before he reached down and grabbed her hand again. "Come on."

They waded through the thigh high water for several minutes, trying not to make too much noise and only partially succeeding. They finally came to another dock and pushed up onto it. They made their way along to a door at the end, and Lisbon reached forward and turned the knob. She pushed the door open and stepped into a hall of mirrors.

* * *

Jane and Cho arrived at the haunted house right after the local PD and only moments before Abbott, Wylie and Pike. They had the three story building surrounded and were waiting for instructions. Cho and Wylie started putting on bullet proof vests. The sky was starting to lighten in the east and the teams wanted to get in before the sun rose.

"You think she's really in there?" Wylie said with a small shudder. Nearly every window was broken out and ragged curtains blew out some of the windows.

Cho secured his vest. "She has to be," he said confidently. "It's a haunted house. It only looks bad."

Jane waited until they were totally engrossed in their preparations and thoughts then walked slowly around to the back of the car where he grabbed a gun from the trunk. He stuck it in the waistband of his pants and buttoned his jacket before he turned and ran into the haunted house. Just before he got inside he could hear their yells along with others, telling him to come back. He knew they'd never let him go in and he was not about to be left behind.

The building was huge, but wasn't finished. The intent was obviously to make the entire building a haunted house, but as it was he could see tools and construction to the left of him. It was to the right where a red door stood with a sign above it reading "enter at your own risk," that had captured his attention. He moved to it flinging it open before crossing the threshold into a mirror room.

He walked with his hands outstretched, looking for openings and turns, knocking his hand several times into glass. He knew he was moving faster than he should be and wasn't giving the maze the proper focus it needed, but he couldn't help himself. He thought about stopping for a moment to calm down, but the very idea was unbearable. No, he had to keep moving, to find Teresa.

After only a couple minutes he caught sight of Pike entering the maze back in the direction he'd just come, followed by Cho and Abbott. Abbott tried to get his attention, signaling that he stay where he was, but he ignored him. There had always been fun houses and halls of mirrors at the fairs when he was growing up. He knew better than most how to get through them and it wasn't long before the men behind him were completely out of sight.

He moved slowly, his breathing was deep and his feet felt heavy. His reflection met him at every turn. It was like nothing he'd ever seen: massive despite having only used a portion of the building. Some mirrors were strategically broken, but there was always another mirror to the sides and behind.

He pulled the Glock he'd stolen from his back and held it in his shaking hands. The silence was horrific, he could hear his ragged pants, every beat of his heart, the small taps of his shoes on concrete and he cursed himself for being so loud—so human.

He reached what appeared to be an entrance and put his hand up to be sure, only to slam it into the glass with a painful thud that echoed throughout the high-ceilinged room. He stepped back and cradled his hand against his chest then went back in the direction he'd come. Broken glass crunched under his feet as he finally found another door and stepped through.

He made several more turns before being abruptly startled by gunshots followed by the sounds of shattering glass. He heard feet trampling the ground and began moving in that direction.

"Patrick!" he heard Lisbon's voice call out. "Run!"

He turned toward her voice and ran as fast as he dared through the maze of mirrors. "Lisbon?" he called out. "Where are you? You have to keep yelling, Teresa!" his heart was hammering painfully in his chest.

There was a shuffle and more breaking glass not far from where he stood, and he rushed toward it. He turned a corner and came face to face with Lisbon running in his direction, a pain of glass in her way, with him at her side.

At first he thought it was his reflection, but as he looked closer he could very distinctly see that she was holding his hand. He stopped abruptly and she noticed almost in the same instant he had that he was no longer looking at her, but at the man who held her hand. She looked at the man holding her hand then at him. Her brow furrowed. He lifted his gun and pointed it at the non-reflection. He wasn't sure what he was doing. His doppelganger suddenly glanced in the direction from which they were running, as did Lisbon.

"Down," his voice yelled from the double's mouth then he watched him grab her and throw her and himself to the ground.

Jane finally broke out of his trance as he watched Lisbon drop to the ground under his lookalike's arms, and saw Spencer Maxwell fire a shotgun in his direction. He threw himself against the mirror to his right as the bullet shattered through the pain of glass that had been separating him from the unexplainable scene he'd just witnessed. Glass flew everywhere, over his head and around him.

He closed his eyes and felt a huge calming jolt hit his body that was so intense it caused him to drop to his knees. He gasped. His eyes watered and his chest gave a painful thumb. He fell forward, catching himself with one the hand holding the gun as his other clutched his chest. He struggled for breath, feeling the thud of his very strong heart. Whatever had just happened was unnerving and yet satisfying—soothing, all at the same time. He felt himself again.

"Patrick!" Lisbon yelled. He was abruptly brought back to reality and opened his eyes looking in her direction. She was about ten feet from him and she was alone. Spencer was advancing quickly cocking his gun as he did. "Throw me the gun," she held her hands out.

Jane immediately tossed her the gun he was holding in hands, and watched as she rolled over on to her back and expertly fire three shots into Spencer' advancing form. Spencer dropped to his knees, and he collapsed at Lisbon's feet, twisting in on himself.

Lisbon scooted back across the glass and quickly away from Spencer' body. Jane pulled himself together and crawled over to her.

She backed into him and he wrapped his arms around her. They stayed that way for several minutes, breathing heavily, his head rested on her shoulder and her arms resting on top of his around her waist. It was Lisbon who finally broke the silence.

She turned her head to look in his eyes. "You saw him, didn't you? My hallucination?"

His thumb reached to his ring finger to twist the band in the comforting manner he'd become accustomed to over the years, but he felt nothing. He lifted his hand and saw that the ring was indeed gone. A sudden memory came to mind of him placing it on his nightstand before he'd left his house. The calm that had hit him earlier was increasing within him, and he welcomed it. "It wasn't a hallucination."

Spencer's body lurched and to both their horror he pushed himself up and grabbed his rifle. He wobbled, but raised the gun and aimed. A loud blast filled the room and echoed up to the ceiling and back. Spencer lurched forward, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed once more. They both jumped and Lisbon let out a gurgled scream. Blood seeped out Spencer's back, and then Pike came into view.

Lisbon pulled her knees up and turned into Jane, burying her head in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her quaking form and whispered into her ear. "It's all right, Sweetheart. It's over."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. There's one more to go on this story. Thanks again to the lovely Phoenixx2812 who made the picture for my story. I did a screen shot of it from twitter and then sent it from my phone to my email, hence the retweet and favorite stuff at the bottom of the picture. I'm hopeless when it comes to that kind of thing. Haha! If you haven't been reading her story by the way, you should, it's called End Game and it's totally brilliant. It has all the awesomeness of spy novels. Oh, and if you have read the Nikki Heat series, Castle, I hope I won't get in trouble for mentioning that here, but her story very much reminds me of that. Just excellent. **

**Reviews are always appreciated!**

**Thanks to the guest reviewer for your lovely review! **


	6. Chapter 6 The Ring

6 The Ring

Lisbon lay in her hospital bed and reached down to scratch around the sides of the gauze covering her arms. Cho, Abbott, and Marcus were watching her carefully, making her uncomfortable. She shifted up a little and cringed in pain.

Marcus moved forward placing his hand on her shoulder. "Don't move Teresa," his voice was strained. She hadn't seen herself yet, but from the expressions on their faces she knew it couldn't be good. She was sure there must be a nasty bruise on her face from where Spencer had knocked her unconscious and she could feel a goose egg over her brow from when she'd fallen into the moat, and then of course there was the bandages covering both of her arms. She thought the bandages looked great in comparison to the ones she'd put on. Those ones had almost drenched all the way through with blood.

She made eye contact with Marcus. "I'm fine," she soothed. "Honestly."

He smiled, despite the exhaustion apparent on his face. "I'm just checking."

She reached out to him, his smile dropped and he took her hand.

She squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

He sat on the edge of her bed.

"You had us really worried," Cho told her from the chair he sat in by her bed. He scooted forward placing his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands.

She smiled weakly and let go of Marcus' hand. "I had me really worried there for a minute too. If Patrick hadn't shown up when he did…" She saw Marcus look angrily away as Cho and Abbott exchanged wary glances. That was weird. "What?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about right now," Abbott said stepping toward the end of her bed and away from the wall where he'd been leaning.

"He was out of control," Marcus said under his breath.

Cho looked at him with an angry glare.

"Pike," Abbott said smoothly, but with a hint of warning in his tone. "Give her a minute."

She scooted up her bed. "What did he do?" she asked nervously. All three men looked at her. She was used to Jane getting into trouble, but if these three were this upset it couldn't be good.

"He did what he had to do to get you back," Cho responded.

"What did he do?" She snapped. All three men looked at her again.

Marcus' expression softened, he breathed out and he looked Lisbon in the eye. "He saved your life."

She could feel bile rising in her throat and wanted to demand that they give her answers, but they were all treating her like she was made of glass and she knew she wouldn't be getting any more out of them tonight.

"We should go," Marcus told her. "You need your rest." He reached up and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, before leaning down and kissing her. She stiffened. He noticed. She plastered a smile on her face to try and soothe his hurt as he stood up and walked around her bed.

Cho stepped up to her bed and touched her arm briefly. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thank you," she said. Her eyes were feeling a little watery, upset with herself for hurting Marcus. She was especially glad when Cho smiled a small smile at her. She thought he knew what she was feeling.

Cho moved back by Abbott. They all walked over to the door and Pike stopped abruptly and looked back at her with a weak smile before shutting the door behind him. She could feel tears at the corners of her eyes, but refused to let them fall until the men were out of the room.

She knew they were just trying to protect her, especially Marcus. He loved her, had told her as much, but right now it was just infuriating, and she wanted to talk to Patrick, no not Patrick—Jane. He'd have to be Jane again until she could sort out what was real and what had just been in her mind. She didn't want to make Jane uncomfortable on top of hurting Marcus.

She hadn't seen Jane since she'd arrived at the hospital. He'd ridden with her in the ambulance, and had held her hand all the way there. Then she'd gone in to be checked out and he'd disappeared. She wanted to ask for him, but when Marcus, Cho and Abbott had come in she'd decided to wait. She'd felt a little embarrassed that in one of the most harrowing experiences of her life the last thing she thought of doing was getting up and running into her boyfriend's embrace. She'd felt safe in Jane's arms, so that's where she'd stayed.

_I'm such a jerk. _She kicked at the sheets wrapped tightly around her legs and breathed out.

Then of course there was her hallucination. She was still trying to work that one out. The doctors had given her a drip to help flush out the rest of the drugs in her system, but they'd told her that the bulk of it had worn off. She just didn't know how to explain that. She needed to talk to Jane. Needed to know what he'd done to upset Marcus, Cho and Abbott. And most importantly be assured that everything that had happened between them had only been in her mind.

* * *

Jane watched as Abbott and Cho left the room and a moment later Marcus. He carefully situated himself so that Cho and Abbott wouldn't see him and so that Pike would. He didn't really want to talk to the man, but after his moment of clarity back in the fun house, he felt he owed him an apology. So he stood by the nurses' station, right in Pike's path, playing with a bandage on his right hand a nurse had given him for a cut he'd gotten from the glass. It was seeping through a little and he was glad, hoped Pike might feel a little pity for him.

"Jane," Pike said coming to a stop in front of him.

Jane sighed. Obviously the man wanted to talk to him. He hadn't wanted that. He'd just wanted to apologize and move on with his life. "Hello Pike," he said raising his hand, injury out.

Pike crossed his arms.

Jane brow furrowed.

"What you did tonight…" Pike started.

Jane breathed out and looked away.

"…I want to thank you. You got her back and really that was what was important."

Jane whipped his head back and stared for a moment before responding. "I was out of control though and if I'd been in a better frame of mind I'd have come up with a different plan. I know you care about Lisbon too, I was out of line suggesting otherwise."

Pike swallowed. "Thank you, you headed out?"

Jane lifted his hand. "I think they want to re-wrap my hand and then they'll let me go," he told Pike, although got the distinct impression that Pike didn't believe him before the man turned and walked off.

Jane rolled back on his heels and watched until Pike had rounded the corner that would lead out of the hospital and jammed his good hand into his jacket's pocket. He was surprised when he felt a cool, small and round metal surface. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it over. His ring. His mind started spinning again. He had two very distinct memories of what he'd done with his ring. One of leaving it on his dresser and one of putting it back on. So how had it gone from dresser to pocket or from finger to pocket?

The gold band glinted in the lights. He moved to place it back on his ring finger, but stopped before it reached his first knuckle. A chill ran up his spine. He tried again this time stopping before his second knuckle.

A sense of foreboding overcame him and he quickly slid the ring off his finger and placed it back into his pocket. He then turned and made his way to Lisbon's room. It was sometime in the morning hours and visiting hours were over, so he had to sneak by a nurse.

The lights were all off in her room save for a small light above her bed and her curtains were drawn. Her eyes were closed, her blankets pulled over her chest and her arms on top of the blankets. His stomach flip flopped at the sight of the bandages. He'd seen her arms, knew how bad they were, but seeing them bandaged from wrists up past her elbows made him feel ill. He moved slowly to her bed and leaned over her. He looked at her face feeling even more sick with what he saw there.

He reached down and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb from her ear to her nose and back again. She moaned lightly and her eyes blinked open, then squinted at the light. It took her a second before she realized who she was seeing.

"Patrick?" she tried to sit up, but was too sore to move. "Where have you been?"

He signaled toward the hall, eyes glued on her.

"We need to talk." She tried to sit up, but he sat on the edge of her bed and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I need to know what happened."

He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. So close, he'd been so close to losing the only person in his life who really cared about him anymore. The only person who'd stood by him in his weakest moments, in his out-of-control moments, his carelessness and recklessness. He'd pushed, shoved, fought, manipulated, cheated and lied to her, but she was still here.

He looked down at her lips and before he was completely in control of his impulse, he leaned in and kissed her. She stiffened for a moment, before lifting her arms and wrapping them around his neck. He moaned when he felt her hand push up and into his hair. He was gentle with her, and slow with their first kiss, moving his lips in motion with hers. Dipping and curving, learning their shape and softness. There would be time for more urgent kisses later on. He pulled away after a moment and rested his cheek against hers before placing a soft kiss at her hairline by her ear.

"I love you," he told her.

She pushed him back lightly and looked him in the eye. He knew what she was doing what she was afraid she might see, but it wasn't there. There was only sincerity.

"If I'd lost you…" he started, but she reached up and touched his lips with the tips of her fingers. She scooted over on the bed to make room for him and pulled his arm until he moved onto the bed next her. She grabbed his lapels with both hands and held on tight as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She buried her head in his chest and closed her eyes.

"Marcus," she started and he tensed, "is really mad at you, and Abbott and Cho are worried. What mess have you gotten us into now?"

He smiled at her use of the word "us", and then sobered at the thought of her boyfriend. "Listen, Teresa. About Pike…"

"Not now. Just hold me." She took a few deep breaths, getting nice and comfortable and he complied.

"Patrick?"

He leaned his head into her hair breathing in her scent. He realized that it was one he'd memorized long ago. "Yes."

"Thank you, for saving my life."

* * *

Lisbon sat at her desk, fighting the urge she had to scratch her arms. The stitches had started itching fiercely a couple days ago and it was all she could do to keep herself from ripping the bandages off and scratching them. Jane had all but hovered since she'd left the hospital. She'd been flattered at first, but a few days later, it started becoming taxing.

For an upsetting afternoon she'd thought she'd have to tell him to stand down so she could talk to Marcus without him there. She should have known that wouldn't be necessary though. She was breaking up with Marcus and even though she hadn't told Jane, he'd figured it out and had mysteriously disappeared at the end of work.

It hadn't made the drive to Marcus's place any less nerve-wracking, or the break-up any easier. He'd been heart-broken. She could remember clearly seeing the hurt on his face, and when she'd left she'd felt miserable. He'd been way kinder to her than she thought she deserved. She hadn't meant to lead him on, but she had done, nonetheless.

Of course she shouldn't have been surprised when she'd opened the door to her house and had found Jane sitting on her couch. She wasn't sure what caused it, but in the moment she'd seen him, a sob had escaped her throat. Then somehow in the very next instant she was in Jane's arms, head buried in his shoulder, crying her eyes out.

She pulled her sleeve down, feeling a little self-conscious and looked over her shoulder. Jane was lying on his couch, eyes closed. Still, she had the feeling that he'd been staring at her before she'd turned to look at him. He'd been staring at her a lot lately. It'd didn't bother her, but she did wonder was going on in his head, especially because she'd also caught him staring at his ring as well. She hadn't seen it on him in a week and a half, since their fight in the parking lot the night she was kidnapped.

At first she'd worried he was having second thoughts about what had happened between them, but then she'd seen the crease between his brow and the intensity with which he was staring at it, like he had it under a magnifying glass, before he'd shove it back in his jacket pocket. He wasn't even being discrete about it, yet at the same time she felt that he was entirely aware of what he was doing.

Weird things had happened that night. Things she couldn't explain, things Jane couldn't explain. When he'd given his statement it was a very clear report of what had transpired while he was here in the office. Reading it, plus the statements of Cho, Abbott, Wylie and Marcus had given her chills. She was glad she hadn't been there to witness it. It gave her goosebumps just thinking about it.

That aside, whenever he talked about that night, he always talked about what had happened in the fun house between the two of them. He never once mentioned being in the office. And she never said anything, because how would you explain that? You wouldn't.

She chalked it up to a miracle. She had seen Angela, was it so much harder to believe that God could make it possible for Jane to be in two places at once? She didn't think so. She reached up and touched her cross. It had been a miracle, one that had done so much more than save her life. Jane's lip twitched and she smiled. Maybe he was asleep.

She looked at her watch and saw that it was six. Time to go. She was more than ready. It'd been a long day and she had something to look forward to tonight. Jane was taking her on their first official date. A chill shot through her at the mere thought.

She stood up and made her way to his couch. He didn't move, and an idea came to mind. She moved a step closer so that she was only inches from the couch and kicked the cushion near his head with her shin.

Jane jumped. His hands rose to block his face.

She stifled a laugh.

He blinked up at her sleepily, then rolled on to his side facing her. "What, woman?"

She tapped her watch. "I'm hungry and you promised me a meal to die for. Let's go. And don't call me woman."

He sat up and stretched over his head with a big yawn. "So grumpy. If I can't call you 'woman' than what should I call you?"

"Hungry, let's go."

Jane smiled and stood up. "Okay, 'hungry'."

He reached down and took her hand as they made their way to the elevator, bringing it up to kiss it once lightly, and Lisbon could feel her cheeks warming up. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to his affection, and if truth be told she wasn't sure she wanted to.

* * *

Jane walked into the bathroom of the men's room, shut and locked the door. He moved to the mirror and looked at himself in it. He wasn't sure why he felt so nervous. This was technically their first date, but they'd spent practically every waking hour since her return in her company and had even spent most nights on her couch, with the exception of the night she'd broken up with Pike. That night he'd slept in her bed, with her in his arms.

He knew it'd be important for her to take her time. She'd cared about Pike, she'd been kidnapped, and she'd been practically thrown into a new relationship. It was a lot to take in in a small amount of time. He was honestly just happy to be sleeping on her couch. They'd both felt security in it and that's why it continued to happen, but if he had his way, very soon, he'd be spending every night in her arms instead.

It'd just been so long since he'd actually dated someone or even wanted to date someone and he found that he was nervous. Nervous and excited and a whole slew of other emotions. He loved her, that was what really mattered, and she loved him, even if she hadn't said it out loud yet. He figured that had more to do with Pike. She didn't want to go so quickly from one man to the next, in any regard. He knew she'd say it soon even if her best intentions were to wait. She'd be helpless to resist after hearing it from him a few dozen more times, and he kind of hoped that after he kissed her senseless tonight that that would increase the difficulty as well. Maybe if he whispered how much he loved her between kisses.

He smiled.

The reflection staring back at him from the mirror wasn't a foreign one, but it wasn't the same either. He looked like he'd been getting sleep, because he had been, and the strain that had been in his eyes was gone. He looked happy, and he was, happier than he'd been since he could remember. Still, the events of the night at the fun house plagued him. When he wasn't thinking about Teresa, if she'd eaten, if she were tired, how her arms were doing, how soft her lips were, how her heart was, he was thinking about what had happened.

He reached into his pant pocket, removing his gold band. It was this. Something had happened with his ring. Something that had made that night possible, that had torn him in two. He lifted the gold band to eye level and examined it.

When he'd taken it off that night he'd heard his Angela's voice call out to him. He'd almost put the ring back on, until he'd heard her voice once again speaking of consequences. He was happy for the first time in years. Teresa was alive and with him, and he was with her. Even the thought of her brought a smile to his face. So he wondered why he was curious.

He moved the ring to his left ring finger and slipped it on. A huge jolt shot through his body and he felt as though he'd been ripped in two.

The End

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed! You're awesome. Sorry that I wasn't able to respond to you all yet, I have to full time jobs and I felt lucky to even get the last chapter out tonight. I'll try and respond to you all either tomorrow or the next day. **

**Also, I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter and story as a whole. Reviews are always appreciated! Thanks again so much.  
**

**If you're interested I have another story going called The Closet Effect. I should have the next chapter up tomorrow!  
**


End file.
